


Lullaby

by Tommykaine



Series: Hang the DJ [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Incest, Inspired by Fanfiction, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Narcissa Black Malfoy Dies, No Smut, Parent/Child Incest, Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:14:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23203789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tommykaine/pseuds/Tommykaine
Summary: After the war, Lucius Malfoy is released from Azkaban once his wife suffers a mysterious accident and Draco has apparently lost his mind from the trauma.Will he be able to help his son, or will he descend further into madness with him as the time goes on, and as Draco's behavior starts to take a toll on his mental health?--Inspired by Nishizono's Saturday's Child
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Lucius Malfoy, Draco Malfoy/Lucius Malfoy
Series: Hang the DJ [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1014486
Comments: 6
Kudos: 55
Collections: COWT - Clash Of the Writing Titans/Chronicles Of Words and Trials





	Lullaby

**Author's Note:**

> This story is kind of a tribute to Nishizono's Lucius/Draco fanfiction called “Saturday's Child”. I was saddened to find out it's pretty much impossible to find online anymore. I don't think mine can hold a candle to it but I hope you will still like it.  
> It was also inspired by Krzysztof Komeda's “Lullaby” from Rosemary's Child, and that's where the title comes from.
> 
> It was also written for the COWT challenge by LandeDiFandom, using the prompt combo Age Difference + SFW + Fanfiction.

Lucius stares up at the entrance of his manor, feeling empty and numb.

_"We've got unfortunate news..."_

_"...a terrible tragedy..."_

_"...the poor woman..."_

_"And his son..."_

_"...apparently he saw everything."_

_"...can't get him to speak, he wouldn't..."_

_"...exceptional circumstances..."_

He'd served one less year. One less year, because his wife died in an accident.

One less year, in exchange for her life.

Rationally he knows that isn't the case. He knows, he knows but it doesn't matter.

He rushes inside.

He almost runs, his footsteps echoing into the empty corridors. Everything seems so lifeless without her. The flowers she picked from the garden and carefully placed into vases are wilting. The smell of their rot permeates the air.

"Draco!", he calls out, looking for him, almost begging for an answer.

He finds him in his study, pouring ink over a parchment. There are countless more like it, stained with smeared ink and wrinkled up or torn in half. He calls out for him again and the younger man turns his head up.

"Draco...".

He walks up to him, holds him into his arms and never lets go. He feels so relieved ad so empty at the same time. He looks down at him, holding back his tears.

Draco stares back up at him, blankly.

"Draco, I'm here", Lucius says, shaking him slightly.

There is no answer. His son only stares, his grey eyes focused on his face but he can read nothing in them.

His heart sinks.

_"Lost his marbles, the poor bastard"._

_"He stayed there beside her and didn't move..."_

_"Must have been quite a shock..."_

His wife's life. His son's mind.

Lucius almost wants to scream.

  
  


  
  


It's midnight.

Lucius wakes up screaming.

Always the same dream.

In his dreams the Dark Lord rises again, and the first ones he comes to look for are his family.

And he falls on his knees and he cowers and bargains and even pleads.

And the Dark Lord only laughs, a cold heartless laugh that makes his blood curdle, that chills him down to the bone.

Then he strikes and Lucius screams as the green blast hits his wife and his son, and he screams and he screams until he wakes up in tears and his wife, Narcissa is no longer there to hold him and calm him down, to let him bury his face in her breasts and hide into her arms until his breath quietens.

It is midnight and he's awake and shaking, and at last it hits him that he is truly alone.

And he never truly stops screaming.

  
  


  
  


It's Saturday, but it could be any day of the week.

Every day fades into the next one as he tries to find ways to fill his time and not have to think about the empty space in his bed, about the vacant look that Draco gives him whenever he tries to talk to him.

He's lost his job, of course.

Together with everything else, except for his money and possessions.

He stares at the garden, at the weeds that are taking over now that she's not there to take care of it.

She would be devastated.

He thinks of getting to work on it and his stomach clenches.

Draco stares at him as he cries in front of the fountain, kneeling down in the mud and weeds while the vacant eyes of the statue pouring down water from a vase look upon them.

He walks up to him and crouches down to hold him into his arms, humming quietly.

Lucius recognizes the melody. It's an old lullaby that Narcissa sang to him when he was a child.

"Let me go", he whispers, but his son can't or won't understand.

He struggles free from his hold, getting more and more frantic until he finally pushes him, he pushes him and Draco falls backwards into the water.

His head, the back of his head almost hits the white stone and Lucius stops breathing.

Draco re-emerges from the water and looks back at him, confused. Hurt.

Lucius storms back inside, runs back into his room like a coward, slamming the door close and resting against it, panting.

_"She fell down the stairs, the poor thing..."_

_"...broke her neck..."_

_"...I think she died on the spot..."_

The weeds now have the garden.

  
  


  
  


It is Monday and there's a rattling at his door.

He opens it up.

It's Draco. He has an owl with him. A letter for him from the Ministry.

Lucius grunts. He hasn't shaved. He hasn't showered either. He looks and feels like a mess.

He ignores the letter. He holds Draco close, so close that he might be hurting him, but Draco doesn't complain.

"My child", he whispers, his hand moving to stroke his hair. "My son, oh I'm so sorry...".

Draco doesn't say anything.

"Draco, please... talk to me".

It's a losing battle.

  
  


  
  


The Ministry finds new excuses to secure away more and more of his possessions. Mostly it's reparations for those who has been hurt by his actions. His, and Bellatrix's and her husband's. He inherited their trail of death and suffering. He's the only one left who can pay.

He, and his son, but Draco is not well enough to handle such matters.

They try to take him away, too. Try to claim he should be at San Mungo, that it'll only be worse for him to stay in the same place that drove him to madness in the first place.

They don't dare to come near again after Lucius chews them out and threatens them.

He receives new letters and now he has to pay for his threats of bodily harm and his stubbornness.

He doesn't care.

Draco looks at him as he tears them up and throws them into the flames.

"Don't worry. I won't let them take you from me".

He thinks he sees the hint of a smile. Maybe he's starting to understand him

Maybe he's just imagining things.

  
  


  
  


It's midnight again.

Lucius wakes from another nightmare.

He wakes up and Draco, his Draco has crept up into his room.

He stands in front of the door like a ghost, staring, staring, and Lucius cannot handle it.

"It's just a bad dream", he says, his voice broken, his tone as soft and gentle as he could manage. He was never good at it. He was not the one Draco went to seek affection from.

But now, he's all Draco's got.

"Go back to sleep".

He hums. He walks up to his bed and hums, as if he wants to sing him back to sleep.

"Draco, it's fine".

He sits on the edge of the bed and gently grabs him by his shoulder, staring into his eyes as if hoping he'll see something different.

And then Draco finally looks, he looks right at him.

Draco leans in, he leans in and Lucius watches as if he was not there, he watches Draco's lips press against his, his arms wrap around his neck.

And for a moment, for a brief horrible moment he almost pulls him closer and kisses him back.

_Slap!_

He stares in fear, he stares and he does not know what scares him more.

Draco no longer looks at him. There's a red mark on his pale cheek when he struck him.

"Draco...", he whispers, he wants to explain, to apologize, but it's too late.

He watches as he leaves, walking away from him, and the emptiness inside him threatens to swallow him whole. Like an abandoned pile of ruins, he feels like he's about to collapse on himself.

 _Please don't come back_ , he begs, he prays, because he doesn't know.

He doesn't know why Draco did that.

He doesn't know if he'll be strong enough to stop him again.

  
  


  
  


Lucius stares down at the stairs.

He's holding his breath. In his hand, he's holding a glass of liquor.

His feet are unsteady.

_"They say that she tripped..."_

_"...she tripped..."_

He takes the glass to his lips and wonders.

He wonders what pushed her over the edge.

Narcissa, his darling Narcissa, she would never fall down the steps like that.

Was she drunk? Drunk like he is now?

Was she lonely? Did she maybe-

Maybe...

He lifts his feet. He thinks of what would happen if he just let himself fall.

He thinks of Draco, Draco alone in the empty Manor, with its wilting flowers and the mold stains he can't seem to get rid of, and the weeds and thorns taking over the garden like in some kind of demented fairy-tale.

He thinks of Draco finding him like he's found his mother. Twisted, limbs bent unnaturally, eyes staring up at nothing.

He doesn't hear his footsteps behind him.

His hand, Draco's hand shoots out and grasps on his arm. Lucius almost trips from the surprise.

He turns around. Draco is looking at him and his eyes, his eyes are filled with terror.

"Don't", he whispers. "Don't".

Lucius feel shame and sorrow. He throws the glass, watches it shatter in a million pieces on the floor.

A million of fathers wrapping their hands around their blond sons. A million of embraces, a million of lips clashing together.

A million of reasons why his wife must be cursing, cursing him from beyond her grave.

  
  


  
  


When Lucius is sober, his shame and sorrow only grow stronger.

Draco looks for him again. Draco always finds him.

He presses his lips against his and Lucius stiffens. He pushes him back and stares down at him, desperate, pleadingly.

"Don't".

Draco's eyes only come to life when he's holding him. Lucius would give everything, everything that he owns to bring him back.

But not this. Never like this.

  
  


  
  


"Draco, we can't".

They are taking a bath. God only knows why he thought that was a good idea.

But his son, his son has not been taking care of himself and he doesn't know what to do.

And of course, of course as soon as Lucius slips into the water with him Draco wraps his arms around him and sits on his lap, searching for his lips with his.

"This is wrong", he tries to explain. Tries to tell himself as much as his son that they can't, they can't.

But his heart, is heart is so empty and hungry and Draco is offering all of himself and then more.

Yet, Lucius still refuses him.

  
  


  
  


"Draco, no. Please"

He slides inside his bed every night, every time he hears him scream.

He slides inside his bed and he's as nude as the day he was born, pale limbs and hair and eyes. Like a ghost, like a memory that won't fade.

And it kills Lucius, it eats him inside to know that he won't ever speak, if not to ask him for what he cannot give.

And Lucius knows he must, he knows but he's so weak.

"Please", he whispers, his hands grasping on his shoulders, his voice hissed between clenched teeth. " _Please_ ".

Draco's kisses are eating him alive. With each one, it feels like a piece of his soul has been devoured.

"Please", Draco whispers against his lips, his tone so desperate, so needy...

Is he just repeating words? Does he even know, does he know what he's asking of him? Does he realize that he's pushing, pushing through something that cannot be put back together once it's been broken?

Lucius's grasp grows weaker. His walls are tumbling down, and so is his resolve.

"Father, please".

Just three syllables.

A small sigh escapes his throat, and Draco captures when it's still on the cusp of his lips.

At last, he lets his hands fall down, and closes his eyes.

  
  


  
  


The next morning comes, and Draco is still there in his arms.

Lucius knows he should feel worse for this.

But Draco's eyes open and they look at him, they really look at him and he smiles.

Lucius knows he should not be glad. He should not lean in to steal his breath, should not wrap the blankets around them to hide them from everything and everyone, to pretend that the his world ends and begins with the warm, pale flesh of the man he's holding into his arms.

He should not be glad she's not there to see their madness.

  
  


  
  


"What happened to your mother?"

He's laying next to him in his bed, in _their_ bed.

He feels him stiffen in his arms.

He knows it's not fair, but he needs it.

"Draco, _please_."

He knows he could answer if he wanted to. Even if he rarely speaks at all. Even if he still stands around looking absent or humming to himself during the day.

He knows he can keep him there with just the touch of his hand. He knows he can breathe life back into his eyes with his lips.

Draco turns around, humming loudly.

Lucius begs him again and again, until he's on the verge of tears, until his desperation breaks his voice and his heart is open and exposed like a fresh sacrifice to a cruel, capricious God.

Draco turns back to him.

There's a new light in his eyes. Something isn't right.

Suddenly, Lucius almost wishes he wouldn't answer.

"She said I look just like you", Draco says, his lips curling up into a smile but his eyes, his eyes hold nothing but bitterness.

Lucius doesn't understand. Something tells him he shouldn't. Something makes him want to kiss his son and silence him before he can speak again, but he doesn't.

"She came into my room every night."

A cold snap. Like the breaking of a bone. Like hands wrapping around his heart and squeezing it.

Lucius cannot breathe.

"She was alone, so alone, and I... I could do nothing else for her", Draco continues, his smile widening. It's like a mask, like a horrible, grotesque mask twisting his beautiful face. "And then she pleaded me, and pleaded me, and so I... I became you".

Lucius curls up on himself. His fingers dig into his scalp. He wants to run, he wants to scream but he can't.

Draco slithers in close, his lips against Lucius's ear as he starts whispering, as if he was telling him a secret.

"I asked what we would do when you came back. She said she'd take care of it. And I knew. I knew she never really came looking for me". He grasps on his chin, forcing him to look up. His eyes, his grey eyes are so cold and terrible. Two pools of liquid mercury. "In the end, we both wanted the same thing. We both wanted _you_ ".

"Draco". His voice trembles, his hand shake as he grasps on his face with both hands, his eyes beg him to deny, to deny. "Draco, what happened to her?".

Draco looks away, his eyes slowly losing focus.

"Draco!"

But his son, his son slips from his grasp. He slips away and Lucius can do nothing, nothing but stare in horror and anguish.

"London bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down...", his son starts chanting, getting up from the bed and spinning, spinning.

"No...". Lucius shakes his head.

He couldn't. He couldn't. He wouldn't.

"London bridge is falling down", Draco sings, and he spins, and he trips and falls. "My fair Lady".

And Lucius laughs, he laughs until his heart shatters, until his eyes fill with tears and he's sobbing and crying and yet he's still laughing, and laughing, and laughing.

And then he crawls close to the edge, he pulls him up again and they sing, they sing, they sing.

  
  



End file.
